Nachiketa’s Diary: I hate the Truth

23rd March, 2010

Dear Diary,

I have decided to document my life once again.

Did I ever tell you how I got got my name. Ok, I’ll tell you now. My father named me Nachiketa because he wanted me to be a knowledgeable man. But unlike my namesake from the Katha Upnanishad who was a great brahmachari and gave up his life in the pursuit of the ultimate truth, I am an ordinary man and I find my father’s expectation burdensome. And who cares about the truth these days anyway?  People do everything possible in their means to run away from the truth. People run away from the truth of their everyday lives by resorting to television and cinema. They run away from the truth of their physical appearance by resorting to stylish clothes and creams and cosmetics. Everything around me is just a means of running away from some form of truth. People live in illusions and love anything that helps to create those illusions. They love to hear and see what they want to hear and see. Then why should I care about the truth?

Last night I again slept with Gauri. This time she had come to my house. After humping each other for more than two hours, we became so tired that we didn’t even bother looking at each other. Lying there on my bed, looking towards the ceiling, through the mist of cigarette smoke I asked her a question.

“Gauri, do you love me?” I asked her, carefully looking as far away from her as possible.

She didn’t reply immediately. In the deathly silence of the night I could hear my heart pumping away the blood in a frenzy. I waited for her answer.

“Of course I love you, Nachi,” she finally replied and again became quiet.

Gauri always called me Nachi. When I had asked her the first time she had called me Nachi, she had said she didn’t have the patience to pronounce my full name. Besides, Nachi was a cute name. But I know she was lying. She was afraid of the truth of my name and what it implied. Nachiketa is a difficult name to have. Especially when you are expected to live it.

“Why do you love me Gauri?” I asked her the second question.

“Because you are great in bed!” she replied and gigled. “No one else eats me out like you.”

I felt relieved. I turned towards her and kissed her. I decided to eat her out once more.

Thank you Gauri! Thank you for not telling me the truth. Thank you for not telling me that my father hanged himself in our living room, the day police caught me doing drugs, or that my mother had died ten years ago, when I was fourteen. Thank you for not telling me that I have lung cancer and I don’t know how long I am going to live. Thank you for not telling me that I pay you to slleep with me and you would say whatever I want to hear. Thank you for not telling me that I am so pathetic that even a prostitute like you feels pity for me.

Thank you Gauri, for lying. I hate the truth. I hate it with all my heart.


2 Comments to “Nachiketa’s Diary: I hate the Truth”

  1. hmmmm…quite a nice one of fiction writing i read after a long time….its really true that we all try to run away from the truth ,,we all hate /fear to face the truth…and we do create our own world of truth which we feel comfortable to deal with…but do we really succeed in this entire effort of ours!!!!at times the truth is such that we just can’t avoid it and we have to digest and live with it….and guess thats what time and situtation teaches us in our life!!!and this is the biggest truth of our life. 😛

  2. i heard nachiketa sing tonight for the first time – he was wonderful

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